The Accidental Expat

Say the word "expat" and immediately I think of a tall white guy in a suit.

I'm a short squat Asian girl. You never think of a short squat Asian girl as an expat.

But I am one.

Bizarre, I know.

I shop at those really expensive groceries. The ones the locals ignore for being over-priced and stocked with impractical imported items like frozen dinners. I read those pocket sized dictionaries in my free time. I'm learning to say Thank You and to count to 10 in the local dialect.

I don't get paid in local currency and have a ridiculous housing allowance that allows me to live in a really swanky building where people change my towels everyday. I go to expat bars with other expats and have lunch at hotel coffee shops.

I watch special screenings of art films and go to the ballet. I actually look up and read websites publicizing events in town. Everything local is cool and unique, and I just gotta try it. Even everyday things like rose tea and pork dumplings. I really like the local beer everyone else dismisses as pedestrian.

My secretary doubles as my translator. She introduces me to people in Chinese and they smile shyly. I wonder what she says. In fact, I wonder what everyone says about me.

I don't eat at local restaurants by myself. Mainly because of the language barrier. I only stay in some parts of town, again because if you don't speak the language, you really can't get around. So you stay in your little social and geographical circle, not because you want to, but because you have to.

You never really think about the flip side of being an expat, until you are one.